


Little Secrets

by NovaStars42



Series: The Kids Aren't Alright [5]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Boys Kissing, Drunkenness, Falling In Love, First Love, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Humanstuck, M/M, Summer Romance, cute boyfriends, davekat - Freeform, roxy puked, three of the strider kids are gay and dad is not having it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-22
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-06-03 21:20:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6626953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NovaStars42/pseuds/NovaStars42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave and Karkat try to spend time some together, but it doesn't go as planned.</p><p>To occur a few days after Give It Time</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Secrets

**Author's Note:**

> song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W6NqCRYy68s&list=PLwBvGRZ4qTdmOi9kbPrs7kpc1bWhOUYt6&index=1
> 
> I made a political joke nobody gonna get in a few months, let me know if you don't know who Jeb bush is, I'll explain it.

 

“Wait, wait, let me get this straight,” he laughed, holding his stomach, “she punched you in the mouth, chipped your tooth, and then got in a fist fight with Vriska?”

I groaned and rolled my eyes. “Haha, very funny, Strider. Ha-fucking-ha.”

“She couldn’t even get in a proper fight with you? She had to leave and clock somebody else? God, Karkat,” he wiped a tear from his eye, “you're like the Jeb Bush of fist fights man. The rest of the candidates don’t even take you seriously and then you have to go back home to Texas to your dad and brother who were both presidents and deal with the fact you never will.”

“That one got away from you, Strider,” I remarked, wagging my finger at him, and sat down next to him in the grass.

“Shut up and kiss me again,” I smirked and leaned a little closer to him.

“Can’t man. Not here anyway,” he says, fixing his obnoxious shades. I frowned.

Right. Because Mr. Strider, presiding douchebag and father of the Strider-Lalonde household couldn’t handle that not one, not two, but three of his four children were gay. He was probably watching.

We were supposed to be painting Dave’s back fence. So far we’d white washed three boards and then he sat down ten minutes ago and we’d done nothing but talk since.

“You're still staying for dinner, right?” He asked, slugging my shoulder.

“My only other option is to go home to Kankri, so, yeah,” I agreed.

“Sweet. I think my mom’s making soup or something.”

“Who makes hot soup in the summer?” I asked but I didn’t need him to answer. His mom. His constantly drunk, alcoholic mother made hot food in hot weather.

“Your family’s like a roadside attraction, I swear,” I huffed. Dave didn’t look bothered.

“They say twins are unlucky. They never say who they’re unlucky for,” he replied and he’s not so sarcastic anymore. His joke made me laugh.

“I still can’t believe your mom had twins, twice.”

He looked very serious, he lowered his shades and with a straight face said: “Believe it dude. This is my ninja clan. This is where we stand.”

“You did not just make a Naruto joke,” I deadpanned, “you did not.”

“Davey! Bring your little friend, dinners on!” His older sister shouts across the yard.

“Comin’ Rox,” he shouted over his shoulder. He got up first, and like he’s some kind of gentleman, he helped me up too.

Dave’s dinner table was long because so many people had to sit at it. His father, who he looked nothing like, sits on one end. His mother, who he’s the spitting image of, sat at the other end. I end up sandwiched between Dave and his mom. The bleach blonde woman had given up using a cup for her vodka and started drinking straight out of the bottle. His father gave her a dirty look, and she ignored it. They’ve had some kind of passive aggressive pissing contest going on, according to Dave.

Dave’s older sister, Roxy, was across from me. She’s had a red solo cup and by the way she was slurring her words, I thought maybe she’d been drinking too. Dave’s twin, Rose, was next to her looking miserable as usual. The oldest sibling, Dirk, was on the other side of Dave.

“Not making much headway on that fence,” Mr. Strider said with his thick southern accent.

“Perhaps Dave’s new literary hero is Tom Sawyer,” Rose suggested with a playful smirk.

“Hell yeah, gonna roll down the Mississippi tomorrow,” Dave said with a straight face.

“That’s Huck Finn,” Rose deadpanned. Dave shrugged.

“Dirk, help your brother with the fence after dinner,” Mr. Strider commanded, like he was the god damn emperor.

“Can’t,” Dirk said. His face was stonewall blank. Dirk didn’t talk much and he didn’t show much emotion. I thought, maybe, somebody could tell what he was feeling if he took those ridiculous triangle sunglasses off. He never did.

“Dirk’s going with Jake to the movies, I said he could,” Dave’s mom answered before his dad could question.

“We talked about this, about being a united force in parenting,” Dave’s father says scornfully. He pointed at her with his spoon, looking angry. Dave’s mom just smiled and shruged.

Beside me, Dave sighed. He didn’t look too happy. I hoped he wasn’t embarrassed or anything. He’d seen my dad preach to my brother while he lectured back. Nothing was worse than that.

“You won’t kiss him in public, do you hear me?” Mr. Strider said, his tone forceful. “I won’t have the whole neighborhood talking about my son kissing boys. Do you hear me Dirk?”

“Yeah,” Dirk replied, looking down. I felt bad for him. I felt bad for all of these kids actually.

The rest of the dinner conversation was about Rose’s violin recital and Roxy’s driver's license. The potato soup that was presented at dinner does not taste good. At all. I finished my bowl and didn’t dish anymore out. Dave finished his food long before me, and he sat, still, trying not to draw attention to himself. He asked if we could be excused and his mother let us.

We tracked back out to his backyard and picked up our paint rollers. I ran my roller though the paint and started a little further down than him.

“You okay?” I asked, glancing over at him.

“Fine,” he said, his shades pushed up to obstruct his face, except for a harsh scowl. He wasn’t fine.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” I asked.

“No. Yes. Ugh,” he groaned, and then wiped his face with his free hand. He paused a second, crouching down to dip his roller back into the paint. He stood up and continued painting as he spoke.

“His definition of acceptance is going out of his way to torment his kids about their sexualities but not outright stopping them from dating. I hate it.”

“We don’t care what he thinks, right? Who gives a fuck,” I gave him an uneasy smile.

He shrugged and continued painting.

I wondered what kinds of things were said when they didn’t have company.

“You wanna go to the movies tomorrow night? Kankri’ll drive us,” I offered.

“Can’t,” he replied, “dads making me go to a boxing class tomorrow.”

“Boxing?” I repeated, “what the fuck for?”

“He says he’s trying to prepare me for real life, whatever that means.”

“I hate it when people say that. Real life. What, like this is fake life?” I roll my eyes.

That makes him smile. “Yeah,” he agrees.

We talked a while longer, painting the fence all the way. We were about half way done with the first of the three sides when Roxy came out and told us that we could stop.

“Mom told him she was turning on The Lord Of The Rings and dad left,” she laughed. “She’s gonna pass out twenty minute in, you guys wanna watch it with me and Rosie?”

“Nah, we’re gonna walk to the party store,” Dave answers for the both of us.

“You need any money, Davey?” She asks. He shook his head no and she pulled him into a hug. She hugged me too before she went back inside. I could smell her and she was defiantly drunk.

The sun was starting to set when we finally left the Strider-Lalonde homestead. We walked in our dirty converse down the side of the road, out of the cul-de-sac and out of the subdivision. We walk out to the main road where we followed that about a half mile down the road to a convince store.

“Alright, alright,” Dave chatted, “check this.”

He was a lot more chatty now he was away from his family.

“Life’s like a boat, gotta keep it afloat, one day I’m sure, I’ll make it ashore, I can assure you,” he rapped, pronouncing each word incorrectly to force it to rhyme. “Sometimes shits a wash, but sometimes you gotta keep things clean, know what I mean?… That’s all I got.”

“That’s pretty bad,” I laughed, “you write raps like a teenager writes mediocre fanfiction. Badly.”

He shoved me playfully and I shoved him back.

We made it to the corner store in less time than I thought we would. He grabbed us a couple of cans of Arizona, the green can with the cherry blossoms, and two sleeves of star bursts. We both split the bill and walked home, drinking syrup tea and trying not to choke on candy.

We were back at his house by dark, and his dad was still absent. Dave drug me down to his basement where his two sisters sat near each other on the couch. Both were facing a TV bigger than the hood of a goddamn truck.

“Where’s mom?” Dave asked, “The Lord Of The Shitasses are still on, so I haven’t been gone that long.”

Rose turned to us and put her finger to her lips.

“Keep it down,” she spoke quietly, “Roxy’s sleeping. I put mom to bed about ten minutes ago.”

“ ’m not sleepin,’ ” Roxy mumbled, and she sat up. Dave plopped himself down between his sisters and I took up the far end, on one side of Rose. It was a close fit, this couch wasn’t meant for four.

“Yo, move your bony ass over,” Dave huffed, shoving his sister into me, and by extension, my hips into the armrest.

“We have the same ass, and it’s not bony,” Rose retorted.

“Quit wriggling, Strider,” I hissed.

“The state of this basement living room is sad. This is some marvelous out of order bull shit, it’s like a cluster fuck of seagulls all after the same groady ass french fry. Like the spandex store had a sale and all the mother fucking secret identitys converged on it,” he rambled.

“Strider!” I warned, “knock it off, you dim-witted, weasel faced lunatic.”

He ignored me. “This is all discombobuled and not right. Rap off for who gets off the couch.”

“Dave,” Rose deadpanned. She pointed to their elder sibling. She'd fallen asleep again during his fucking sermon of speech.

“Rap. Off,” he demanded. His sister rolled her eyes.

What flew from her mouth next made my jaw drop.

“This is going to end like every argument does, with you kissing my ass and begging me to stop. I’m on top, you insufferable prick. Hold on, I’ll find you a bucket to kick.”

Dave looked downright offended. “Whoa, whoa, hold up, you got that first part from Jenna god damn Marbles.”

“She’s an Internet sensation.”

Dave smirked. I couldn’t see behind his sunglasses, but I could pretty well tell he had something good up his sleeve.

“This is a federal fucking issue, you're gonna need a tissue. They’re gonna have to reissue all your common sense, get off the fence, girl, your words make me wanna hurl.”

“Roxy says quiet,” the older girl muttered though the couch cushion.

With their rap off prematurely ended, the younger Strider twins exchanged looks. Rose had known they were going to wake Roxy. Sighing, she got up, relinquishing hold of her spot on the couch and by extension, the TV. As soon as she left, Dave changed the movie to some action flick that he liked and had seen a hundred times.

When he sat back down, he sat closer to me.

I looked away because I didn’t want him to see the heat rising to my cheeks. Then it occurred to me he could probably see it anyway. He was sitting so close to me, I could feel the heat radiate off of him.

He was taller than me, by a good four inches, so I had to look up when I turned my attention to him. He smiled at me from behind those ridiculous shades. I found myself scowling, reaching over, and pushing them on top of his head.

“I didn’t know you had eyes,” I deadpanned.

He didn’t say anything. For once in his whole life, he didn’t say anything.

I felt his fingertips graze my hand, hesitantly, and I found myself lacing fingers with him.

Strider wasn’t somebody you go to for a lot of reassurance or physical contact. He didn’t even like to brush elbows in the halls at school. He was still smiling and still holding my hand and I thought for a moment that I’d never seen somebody so happy.

Then, like a shot to the heart, I thought about Terezi. I felt bad, for doing whatever confusing thing I’d done to her. I never knew if I wanted to be more than friends with her. I guessed I should have figured that out before I started seeing Dave. I didn’t want to think about how I’d completely fucking botched that entire relationship. She probably never wanted to speak to me again and my tongue went to touch my chipped tooth, as if to remind me.

“Are you okay?” Dave whispered, leaning in close to me.

He was right there, right fucking there.

“Strider?”

“Hmm?”

“Kiss me.”

And he did.

He tasted like fruit from the starburst, and vaguely like blistex Chapstick. His lips were wet and warm and his whole body was soft as we sort of slumped into each other. Kissing Dave felt like coming home. He didn’t make the guilt I felt go away, but a million other feelings rushed into my chest and all of them were good.

When he pulled away, he pulled his shades back down over his eyes. We were both panting slightly, out of breath because neither of us knew how to kiss and breathe at the same time. His lips mashed the corner of my mouth, and my head jerked to steal another kiss.

Behind him, Roxy coughed, and then she gagged. Dave sprung off of me in an instant, dashing to the nearby laundry room. Roxy sat up, still coughing and covering her mouth. Dave returned with a bucket just in time.

Roxy retched, and threw up. She groaned, brushing her hair back to keep it out of the way.

“Fuck,” she said, spitting into the bucket before she gagged again, throwing up a second time.

“You okay, Rox?” Dave asked, looming over her.

“Don’t tell dad, Davey, please,” she begged, looking up at him with watering eyes.

“I won’t,” he assured. He went upstairs for a moment, and returned with a bring pink tie for Roxy’s hair.

I always thought the older Strider sister could hold her liquor. She was sort of known for being the neighborhood drunk. Dave pulled her hair back for her and wrapped the elastic around it.

“I gotta quit,” she muttered, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, “I can’t do this anymore.”

Dave didn’t reply.

She coughed again and put the bucket down. She put her head in her hands and the room was quiet.

It was time for me to go, I decided. This was getting awkward. I stood up.

“I’m gonna go,” I said. Dave looked over at me, he didn’t look very happy.

“I’ll text you,” I said and he nodded.

I saw myself out.

Groaning, I unlocked my door, and Kankri greeted me from the living room. I told him to shove it, ignored my dad and went up to my room. I threw myself down on my bed and scooped my pet hermit crab out of his cage next to my bed. I let him crawl over my hands and arms. It’d taken me forever to get him comfortable enough not to hide when I held him.

Terezi always liked him, I’d let her hold him a few times too. I opened my phone and, before I chickened out, sent her a text message.

<< To: Pyrope Message: hey Timestamp: 8:46>>

The message read delivered. Seconds later a read notification popped up, meaning her phone had read the message aloud to her. I waited and waited, but she never replied.

I sighed and decided to text Dave.

<< To: Strider Message: Hows your sister? Timestamp: 8:50>>

<< From: Strider Message: better. I got her to go back to sleep. Timestamp: 8:50>>

<< From: Strider Message: sorry about all that. Timestamp: 8:51>>

<< To: Strider Message: it’s fine. We can have sloppy make outs anytime. Timestamp: 8:51>>

<< From: Strider Message: yeah. Hey, you wanna watch a movie with me Timestamp:8:51>>

<< To: Strider Message: I just left Timestamp: 8:52>>

<< From: Strider Message: no, man. Like, online. We’ll both watch the same movie, and, like, text each other during. Timestamp: 8:52>>

I smiled, and drew my legs up under me. I snatched my laptop up from the floor and turned it on.

<< To: Strider Message: 50 first dates? Timestamp: 8:53>>

<< From: Strider Message: oh my god, you’ve got to be kidding me Timestamp: 8:53>>

<< To: Strider Message: like your taste in movies is any better Timestamp: 8:54>>

<< From: Strider Message: whatever fine Timestamp: 8:54>>

I pulled up the website I usually pirated movies from and pulled up Fifty First Dates. We watched all ninety nine minutes of Adam Sandler and Drew Barrymore struggling to make it work.

I got my mind off of everything for a while, it was just me and Dave and the movie.

**Author's Note:**

> Throws DaveKat in and slams the door  
> https://vine.co/v/iIaLbvbuEJZ


End file.
